


Correctional Officers

by WaldosAkimbo



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Belts, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), gagging, nate needs help relaxing, slap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaldosAkimbo/pseuds/WaldosAkimbo
Summary: Nate has had a hard day and is letting it all get pent up until Jake reminds him they are there to help. Nate gets taken care of by his two loves, Officers Reyes and Pentecost.





	Correctional Officers

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first bdsm fic, so let me know if it needs either more tags or some changes made.

 “You look like rubbish, mate.” Jake’s eyes flicked up in the mirror, which he was basically pressed flesh-to-glass to, an eyebrow quirking towards his pristine hairline. “I mean, you’re still cut. Stupid handsome face and all, but also gross.”

“I don’t have to deal with this.” Nate sighed at the floor and almost pivoted away when he heard the clatter of a razor in the metal sink, water shut off, and footsteps coming towards him. “Look, I—”

There were cool, slightly damp hands running across his chest before he could get his usual excuse out. Any other time, of course, he’d shove away and tell him to knock it off, but it was so…perfect? Nate breathed out against Jake’s palms. It was more a huff than he would have liked, the zinging worry scattering across his skin. Nate closed his eyes, letting himself dissolve, even for just a moment.

“Don’t waste so much water,” Nate grumbled. He felt ready to stick a fork in a socket. His nerves were, in a word, unhappy.

“I turned it off,” Jake said. He leaned in so close that Nate couldn’t help but smell him.

“Are you using my shaving cream again?”

“Nah. It’s actually Jules’ brand.”

That almost got a chuckle out of Lambert. The sharp aroma of menthol came off Jake’s cheeks and Nate finally turned around, taking a step back so he wouldn’t accidentally bump Jake’s chin with his own. “You’re not done yet.”

“Still got a bit of maintaining to do, yeah,” Jake answered, jutting out his jaw. “Looks good though, right?”

Nate had to fight the urge to stroke Jake’s skin with his fingers, opting instead for an almost-wink.

“Looks good.”

“Flatterer.”

“I think that’s usually your department.”

“And I excel,” Jake said. He leaned in to kiss Nate, only to catch some of the hesitation. They were alone. In their room. It should be fine. It was perfectly fine. It was often instigated _by_ _Nate_ , when he was feeling particularly greedy for affection, but, for whatever reason, his neck seized, and he tipped away from it. Just a fraction of an inch. And, of course, Eagle-Eye Jake there spotted it. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Nate said defensively. He saw the question coming. He felt it trying to slip across the Drift bond and jerked his head out of reach. “I’m going to lie down.”

“You want—”

“You still have a little on your—” Nate drew a line down his jaw to show Jake where he had shaving cream left over on his face. “Take care of that.”

It was snider than he meant. He didn’t even flinch when Jake sighed and muttered, “You’re a prick sometimes.” It was hard to tell who he was talking to, but Nate knew it was aimed at him. Which was fair.

Thankfully, it was quiet in the room. Sometimes they had music playing and sometimes there was noises of life trickling in from outside, but, for now, it was quiet. And dark. And he needed that right about now. Not that he was overtaxed or had been ignoring a migraine all day. Because Nate would never admit that. He would just continue to ignore that pressure up behind his eyes, turning out of the small side bathroom and traipsing over to the bed that took up a large portion of the cabin. He sat down. Well, alright, it was more a collapse or a crash before he took the time to unlace his boots and set them aside near the desk. Somethings had order. Somethings definitely did not. Christ, he would have to deal with the desk soon. It had become a visual reminder littered with so many requisition orders and transfer requests and HR forms he still had to sign over. Why did they still use paper? Everything was scarce. They should just—

A towel hit the center of his chest, startling him. Nate grabbed it before it fell to the floor. He blinked slowly. It was like trying to warm up after coming in from the cold. Not that it was cold outside. They were still in China and, honestly, it was getting close to the rainy season again. Maybe that was it. Less sunlight? Did he need more sunlight? Nate only glanced up when a pair of familiar toes entered his peripheral. When he didn’t move fast enough, Jake tipped Nate’s chin up with two fingers.

“You look like shit,” Jake said and somehow that was supposed to be fondness behind the obvious scowl.

“Alright. I take it back,” Nate said slowly. “You’re not a flatterer.”

“I am.” Jake ran his thumb across the sharp line of Nate’s jaw. “But you don’t need that right now.”

“Oh?” The word cracked in half as it came out of Nate’s dry mouth. He didn’t grin, because he didn’t honestly have the energy for it, but he was trying. “And what is it that I need, Ranger?”

“Officer Pentecost.”

“Ah.” Nate tried to keep his face placid, even when his heart rate picked up. “Yes, sir.”

Jake’s thumb dragged up across Nate’s lip, smearing it away from his teeth. Nate simply let his mouth open, sucking Jake’s thumb up and lapping at him with his tongue. That. That got a laugh out of Jake. He tsked when Nate closed his eyes, relishing the warm, slightly salty taste across his tongue before there was a shutter and click noise. Nate looked up into the lens of Jake’s phone. His eyebrows knitted down at the unwelcomed picture. They were having a nice moment and the jerk had to go and ruin it by gathering a piece of blackmail. He almost spat Jake’s thumb out of his mouth, instead biting down a little. That one got a warning. One of Jake’s fingers hooked up underneath his jaw and dug in towards the bottom of his tongue. Jake turned the screen around to show Nate, but he made certain to keep it out of swiping range.

“Figured Jules should see,” he said, the corner of his lips twisting upwards. Nate lifted his hand to try and take the phone, but his wrist was gently knocked aside. Jake pushed his thumb back into Nate’s mouth before he could protest. “Ah. You reach for it again without permission, I won’t be nice.”

There was a steely note undercutting Jake’s playful speech, a flint that ignited a spot in Nate’s stomach.

“Do you want me to be nice?”

Nate went back to gently sucking Jake’s thumb, relishing the feel of his fingers scraping across his cheek. The other hand found his hair and carded lines through dirty blonde tufts.

“There’s a good lad,” Jake whispered as he kneed Nate’s chest, pressing down onto the bed. He couldn’t fall away with Jake’s fist tightening over his scalp, forced to crunch his abs or risk pain. “Easy now. Down we go. You want me to be nice, yeah?”

Confirmation was key. Nate had a nasty habit of going quiet, internalizing too much, and he might be one of the must stunted pilots Jake’s ever had to Drift with. Everyone who did their homework knew Cadet Nate had to go through five partners before he found anybody that was Drift Compatible. It was a shame, since the kid believed so much in the Jaeger program as to be a fanatic, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Did it suck that his partner was Jake? No, not at the time. It only sucked when Jake rebelled and had to go. He had to get out from Stacker Pentecost and do his damndest to be his own man. Kids are pricks. They’re selfish. Jake said so too many times, but he eventually stopped and apologized properly. He knew Nate never got the same from Nate’s last Drift partner, Burke. Bastard.

There was always this talk. This suggestion that Nate see someone about this, but it didn’t interfere with the Jaeger piloting. Not anymore. Not now that Jake was back and they’d _reconciled_. Nate could even argue that it helped. It kept them focused. The two could sync up and suddenly they were so in the fight, it was like everything else fell away and he could just be. And, yes, people knew about Drift affects. Compatibility was supposed to be this exceptional thing. Bonds forged between siblings, husbands and wives and the likes. Intense connections. They had to be close. Now, with encroaching threats and all the shit that eventually led up to the MegaTokyo attack, they had learned that the younger the pilots, the easier it was to force the bond. Well, usually. Exceptions to the rule. Nate, of course, being one. But, the cadets of today? There was no need for that perfect partner. Nate figured he’d never have one anyways. It didn’t work out with Burke, right? Fine. Nate could put a shield up around his thoughts that’d make Fort Knox call in for tips. So, even with his knee up on Nate’s sternum, Jake liked to check in.

“Give us a nod,” he whispered. Instead, he felt teeth threaten his thumb again and he hissed. Jake tightened his fist in Nate’s hair until he winced. “Oo, we’ve had a bad day.”

A soft stripe of a tongue down the center of his thumb in apology.

“We need some help, do we?” Jake put a little more weight on his knee, forcing a grunt out of Nate. “You’ve gotta be a good boy and wait.”

Nate mumbled a question around Jake’s thumb. When it only got him another squeeze under his chin, he rolled his eyes and started to push himself up towards the headboard, hefting himself and Jake’s weight. Right until he got a smack to the face and Jake cupping him where the skin would soon grow hot and red.

“I tell you you could move, Ranger?” Jake asked, dangerously close now. His breath swept warm and moist across Nate’s face. Nate stared, sinking flat onto the mattress. One, because Jake told him to, and two, because the look in Jake’s eyes made his limbs feel like long ropes of jelly. “You’ll get your workout in, but you have to wait for it.”

“Jake, I—”

Lips smashed hard against his own to shut him down, peppered with teeth and tongue, at odds with the soft petting on his cheek where Jake soothed his skin. Nate closed his eyes again, sinking into the warm darkness. He focused instead on Jake’s energy, his weight on his hips, his hand, the almost painful, needy kiss. Nate reached up for him and got so far as touching Jake’s shoulder before his hand was shoved back down next to his head. There was a crack between them, a fizzle as Jake pushed forward to get the Drift connection that Nate fought so hard to control. Nate pulled away from it. So Jake rolled their foreheads together, breaking away with a gasp.

“You want me to be nice?” he asked again.

Nate’s fingers twitched across the disheveled sheets, straining for freedom. A part of him really wanted to push up. They were evenly matched to spar. They could grapple and bruise each other, and he wanted to test that limit. He needed to. And he could, if he said yes. Jake was accommodating that way. Gave Nate three tries to ask for it and this whole thing would dissolve and then he’d let the vice squeeze in on him as everything, every task, every command, every demand came back in and crushed him. He needed a moment to just….

“Fuck you,” Nate finally answered with an angry sneer of his mouth.

“Oh, Ranger.” Square fingers dug divots into Nate’s cheek. “Thought you’d never ask.”

There was the distinct sound of a zipper just as Jake lifted himself up off Nate’s hips. Nate almost complained, almost reached up, but the threat of another slap was enough to have him cross his arms above his head and hold his own wrists. He waited for the order. Letting someone else lead made his mind go blank, like the soft fuzz of a few beers. He was told he had to wait. So. He waited.

“Come here.”

Nate lifted his head to look down towards his feet. He was embarrassed how instantly his mouth watered. He wanted to whine with want, swallowing it up before it warbled out of his throat. Jake would only make fun of him if he did.

There was a hook of his finger as Jake beckoned him again. “Come. Here.”

Nate rolled up to a sitting position, his ankles hooked at the end of the mattress. If he flexed his toes, he could just about touch Jake’s thighs peaking bold and beautiful beneath the line of his boxers. He’d let his pants fall towards his ankles and was gently stroking himself through the slit of his underwear. He looked down the length of his nose with chin jutted out, shoulders square and even.

“I—”

Which was not the right answer. Jake let go of himself, his cock hanging heavily out the front of his underwear, begging to be stroked or taken care of. It was very tempting, but Nate would have to get closer. Which Jake seemed more than willing to oblige. He gripped Nate’s shins and _pulled_ , dragging him down the bed until he was seated primly in front, his face within reach. His hair, more accurately, as Jake took a fistful and pushed Nate’s mouth towards his crotch.

“Did I give you permission, Ranger?” he asked, gripping so hard as to bring tears to the corner of Nate’s eyes. He couldn’t even shake his head, so Jake yanked back, forcing him to look up.

Nate grabbed Jake’s forearms and they paused a moment, regarding each other. A simple signal to end it. Jake looked down at Nate’s hands instead of his face, which was all well and good. There might be some gentle pity waiting in his eyes and it would ruin it.

When Nate didn’t tap him, Jake pushed his hands off his arms and shook him by his hair again. “Answer me, Ranger.”

“No, sir,” Nate answered obediently, the word choked back at the fierce angle of his throat. Jake took a step back, dropping Nate down on his knees.

 “Open your mouth.”

Nate’s tongue darted out for a flash before he opened his mouth, prepared to repeat himself. Instead, Jake slotted the head of his cock neatly between Nate’s lips. There was a moan, and it was hard to tell which man made it as Nate slackened his jaw to make room and let Jake fuck deeper.

“Oh, Christ,” Jake muttered softly, biting back the praise. His fingers loosened, brushing back Nate’s fringe of hair that threatened to cover his forehead. Nate looked up, cheeks rosy when he hollowed them out and sucked down hard to the root. “Oh, fuck!”

Jake bucked up and slammed the head of his cock against the back of Nate’s throat, causing him to choke and splutter. He almost pulled back, but Jake’s hand was there to keep him steady. Keep him in his place. God, _yes_. He felt pin prickles of tears again, trying to squint them away. They were just a physical reaction, like sweat. Nothing real. And while his chest tightened for a second, he didn’t panic. It wouldn’t be hard to reach up and grab Jake’s wrists, shove him off. Hell, just tap. But he moaned sweetly again, finding his pace, eagerly sucking off Officer Pentecost.

It was, in fact, Jake who pushed Nate off. He used that handle of hair, his other hand digging into Nate’s shoulder. When he looked down, poor Nate’s beautiful fucking face was red and sweaty, eyes half-lidded and lips shiny with saliva and precum. He panted hard, ragged, but patiently waiting on his knees.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake muttered again, stroking himself, stroking back Nate’s hair. Nate looked pleased. He looked beautiful. His eyebrows twitched downward in thought and Jake slapped him across the other cheek, harder than the first time. Nate gasped, fists clenched, then settled back down again when Jake’s handprint bloomed to the surface. “You’ve done good, Ranger. Up on the bed.”

No need to be told twice. Even with stiff joints from kneeling on the floor, Nate quickly got back up onto the bed, sitting down and letting Jake push him hard enough towards the mattress that his head bounced. He gripped the bedding beside him and captured Jake’s thighs when he straddled him, going in for a kiss. They were seated just so that there wasn’t any friction against Nate, who twitched his hips up, whining at the drag of his zipper, made worse by the damp spot that was starting to spread. Jake didn’t care. Or, at least, he didn’t notice. He didn’t sit back to relieve the pressure, that was for certain. Instead, he grabbed Nate’s face and kissed him fiercely, pulling Nate’s red lips in and tasting himself mixed in.

“Nate,” Jake whispered, panting over top of him.

“No, please,” he answered back, taking a fistful of Jake’s shirt and tugging him.

“Ranger.” Nate melted. “Let go.” And he did. Willingly. Relieved. “Up to the top with you.”

“Yes, sir,” Nate answered.

“You’re going to grip the headboard. You let go, we’re starting over.”

Nate nodded his head quickly, scrambling up and turning around to do as he was told.

“Let me hear you, Ranger.”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

Nate closed his eyes when he took a hold of the flat, plain headboard next to the wall. His head fell towards his chest, breathing out slowly. There was a shift, a clattering noise and the sound of a snap as Jake retrieved his belt, testing the give against his hand. Nate shivered, hard enough to drive a goddamn nail. He gripped the headboard tighter instead of relieving the pressure of his own belt and zipper. The slight bounce on the mattress as Jake came up behind made him moan, so he bit his bottom lip hard enough to bruise. Only the gentle touch of hands snaking up around his chest got him to breathe again.

“You’re not gonna have the option to tap,” Jake whispered as a reminder against his neck. “So, you have to promise to say ‘stop’ when you need it.”

Nate nodded.

“Let me hear you.”

Nate nodded again, earning him a drag of nails across his chest.

“Nate, I ain’t playing. Let me hear you.”

“Yes,” he answered, his voice catching on a sob.

Fingers found his throat and lips graced his pulse points before Jake whispered, “Good lad.”

There was static in the air as Nate both tensed and tried to relax, waiting. Waiting. Of course he had to wait. He had to slow things down and drag them out instead of hurtling on towards the next important task. Because everything was important. Everything demanded the now, no matter how tiring or greedy the now became and—

 _Crack_.

Nate gasped at the hard sting across his backside. His knuckles went white and he dipped down, inadvertently pushing his ass up more, giving a broader canvas to work with. Before he could get his breath to settle, there was another strike. He bit his bruised lip when the third made contact, then more, until his he had to clench his teeth or risk drawing blood.

Jake let moments drag on between a few of them, to let his skin breathe. To let Nate breathe, honestly. But that wet, knotted pain in his chest stuck firm and he panted hard at the smashed pillows under his knees. His forearms burned from holding onto the headboard. His skin was hot, pain skittering away to a persistent pleasure that ached almost as badly as the belt. And the moment dragged on, longer and longer, until Nate started to lift his head and check to make sure Jake hadn’t suddenly given up on him. He opened his eyes to check when a fresh strike surprised him and he cried out. His knuckles punched the wall. God, he was so fucking close.

Jake was there again, with perfect timing. He was up on Jake, his hands like sandpaper when they pressed down across his cheek, one hand wandering further to slot beneath him and press up against his aching balls. He choked out another sobbing sound. So. Fucking. Close.

“Let go, Ranger,” Jake said evenly behind him. He gripped Nate’s belt and slacks and pulled back, helping him sit down. His thighs were on fire, but it was worse when he sat on the mattress, a limp mess in Jake’s arms. Jake kissed his cheek and purred, almost disappointed. Another kiss lower, down to the hinge of his jaw, his earlobe, which he proceeded to bite. “Let go.”

Nate hummed, louder than he meant to, pushing up from his diaphragm. Come on. _Come on_. But even when Jake bit hard and made him yelp, he just settled back and shook his head.

“Okay,” Jake said so softly, it stung. “That’s okay. We’ll take care of you.”

“Jake,” he answered, or perhaps asked, surprised he even had a voice left.

“Officer Pentecost.”

 _Fuck_. So close.

There was a knock somewhere, a pounding that sounded almost like the blood rushing through his head. Thank God Jake was there to take care of it, whatever it was. He slipped off the bed, leaving Nate stretched out. Before he was gone, Jake put Nate’s hands up above his head and again told him to hold his wrists, which he did, rocking his hips side to side to alleviate the welts on his skin and the strain below his belt. He heard voices far off, distantly aware that he might be embarrassed to be caught like this, but it was so warm and quiet and he felt like he’d been boiled into a broth.

Something was being discussed in low, sweet voices. Nate thought whoever was taking up Pentecost’s time needed to either step in or take a hike, as his senses started to come back to him. Or, more accurately, dive down to the painful erection trapped in his pants. He breathed harder, focusing on his heartbeat, on the slightly dusty smell of the sheets, the persistent salt of ocean spray that covered _everything_. That seeped into his soul. _Oh, fuck it, just relieve it_ , he thought, and started on his own belt buckle.

“Who gave you permission to undress, Ranger?”

Jake’s skin prickled head to foot like he was covered in ants at having been caught. He cracked an eye and looked over to see Jules, already down to a jumpsuit tied to her waist and the black tank top she favored. Christ, but her shoulders looked amazing. The question slid out of Nate like he was drunk.

“Jules? When—”

“Hands up, Ranger,” she said, motioning with her chin. Her eyes blazed and her hip cocked against the wall. “Won’t tell you again.”

Nate could be peevish to Jake. He could fight back and make it harder for him and disobey to get more, but Jules. Jules somehow cut right into his spinal chord and made him flush like he was being dropped into molten lead. His hands went back up and he grasped his wrists.

It was hard to keep his head up, but he wanted to watch as Jules stepped closer to the bed. He bucked his hips and got a finger wag, a little short “tsk” at his eagerness. It wasn’t fair that Jake had warmed him up, but he hadn’t ever gained much ground by begging. Not like that.

“He’s been so good,” Jake said, sliding up behind Jules and wrapping his arms around her. At some point between the blow job and now, he had removed his button-downed shirt, leaving only the tank top—Nate’s, of course—and the boxers. He enveloped Jules, kissing sweetly at her cheek until the stern look flickered and shifted and she laughed lightly. She reached back to cup his freshly-shaven face and kissed him. First so chaste and sweet it was nearly nauseating, but it quickly slipped into something hungrier. She turned completely to face him, rolling her hips flush up against his and grinning against his mouth at Jake’s warbled moan.

“Everybody’s warmed up,” she said quietly. “And how is that fair to me?”

“Life ain’t fair, love,” Jake said with a laugh, pulling back when he got a swat to his cheek. “Ow! I’m only saying. We’ve got ourselves a very good boy over here who can help.”

The two glanced over. Those prickly ghost-ants were back on his skin, crawling all over. Nate squirmed under their scrutiny.

“Have you been good, Ranger?” Jules asked, slanting her hips up against Jake again to get him to moan.

“We’re getting there,” Jake answered, dropping his head down against Jules’ neck and nibbling at her skin. She grinned and a fluttery laugh escaped before she pushed on Jake’s head so he could not leave a mark. He was always trying to do that. Like he needed to see proof of ownership, of belonging to them. With them. He could take a look at the marks on Nate’s ass if he wanted. “What? C’mon. Least let me—”

“It’s not about you.” Jules tapped Jake’s nose with each word.

Another tug on his shirt got a kiss, but she quickly stepped back before he could get handsy. She shimmied out of the jumpsuit, dropping it haphazardly to the floor with Jake’s clothes, and stretched, arching her back towards Nate. A cute pair of peach-colored undies cut the curve of her perky ass and God, she looked good. He chuckled at the display and lifted his wrists to silently ask permission. Jules shook her head. He put them back on the mattress dutifully.

“Jake,” Jules sang out. She was standing at Nate’s feet, swaying a little to some internal melody. Jake bounded over, slotting himself up behind her. She stretched her neck against his, but her eyes stayed locked on Nate. “Look how _hard_ he’s working.”

Jake smiled, lipping at her jawline. He flicked his gaze over to Nate, who had the pleasure of two attentive eyes if nothing else. He’d had a moment to cool off, but their stares made him twitch. The teeth of his zipper were starting to become a real threat.

“Yeah? No, our Ranger there is tops,” Jake said with a wink. He brushed teeth just below Jules’ ear, and her eyes fluttered, but never closed all the way. “What’re we doing with him?”

“Oh.”

Jules pushed the curve of her ass up into Jake, which bent her down, so she could brace her hands on the mattress. Her smile tightened; she knew she had won when Jake moaned again, breaking eye contact. Nate’s chest heaved when he stared at her. He strained to sit up without breaking the hold on his wrists, but it made his shoulders ache. He had to cave, stretching back to look at the ceiling and give his joints a break. Her light cackle was like Jake’s handprint. It prickled. It bled away to something warm in his veins.

The mattress jostled as Jules climbed up onto the bed, taking her seat on the top of Nate’s thighs. Not that she was heavy by any stretch, but the added pressure reminded him of the string of welts and his cheeks flared hot with the extra contact. He hissed, arching his back, dragging his cock against his zipper again.

“Fu-uck,” he whispered.

“Ranger,” Jules said seriously. “We don’t tolerate that kind of language in our barracks.”

“S-s…sorry, sir.” He could almost hear Jules’ approving preen and was welcomed by the sweet satisfaction of being released, the button of his slacks undone, and the zipper pulled aside. His cock sprung lose from the slit in his boxers, unimpeded and slapping his stomach as he gave out a low, shuddering moan. “Ooh _fuck_.”

Small nails dug into his hips, driving his attention back into the now. He bit his lips same as his eyes slammed shut, feeling it. _So close._

“One more and I won’t let you finish,” she said sternly. Jake focused on his breathing then, the warmth shooting down his spine. “Ranger? Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Her hands smoothed out, rubbing away the marks on his hips. Her thumbs dug safe, gentle circles into the lines cut across his lower abdomen, making him jump and buck without thought.

Nate kept his eyes closed. It was easier to sink that way, to drift in the tremulous waves that sat between pain and pleasure. He felt dizzy and feverish, and as bizarre as that was, loved. It was a perfect balance and it hurt so sweetly, he could cry. If only.

There was another small tremor as Jake crawled up to join them. He didn’t sit on Nate’s knees, instead kneeling carefully behind Jules. Nate waited all the same for the pressure of his body to join hers, only to hear a soft, airy whimper and something obscenely wet. He tilted his head. His eyes were heavy and he didn’t want to open them, but curiosity got the better of him when his own legs were pushed together and Jules bounced up away from his thighs.

“There. Right there,” she whispered.

Jules was holding the back of Jake’s head, holding herself up as his hand skated broad strokes across her torso and two fingers dipped perfectly between her folds. She shivered, and Nate could clearly see her skin light up with goosebumps. His mouth went slack in a gentle “o” as he watched, and he blushed when Jake caught him staring, pushing up Jules’ shirt. Jake’s fingers disappeared to the base right as he skated his other hand across her nipple and she fisted the tight curl of Jake’s hair, pushing his mouth against her shoulder.

Just as she was started to bounce down on his hand, Jake pulled her shirt back down to her belly button and pulled his hand out from her trimmed cunt. Jules didn’t whimper, just creased her eyebrows like she was caught in a particularly interesting thought. Jake kissed her cheek to smooth away the scowl, same as Nate would have done if he was sitting up.

The two tilted away from Nate, moving in beautiful synchronicity and climbing up to join him towards the head of the bed. Jake reached him first.

“Open up,” he commanded. He slipped shiny wet fingers into Nate’s mouth, skating his tongue with Jules’ slick. Nate lapped it hungrily. “You want more?” A simple nod and when Jake pushed his fingers in deeper, threatening to gag him, Nate bit down again. Jake smiled, thumbing saliva from the corner of Nate’s mouth before he pulled his fingers free. “Jules, my love.”

“Officer Reyes.”

“Right, sorry.”

Nate sighed, stretching he back up off the mattress.

“Ah, right, sorry,” Jake said again, leaning over to kiss the wiry blonde hair striped down Nate’s bellybutton.

“God damnit,” Nate whispered, dropping his back onto the mattress.

It wasn’t his fault. Jake was very sweet. Probably from all that goddamn sugar he consumed. He did love to love and sometimes he could be easily distracted. His mind wandered. It was terrible to chase after his thoughts, trying to keep up when there were other things to focus on. There were so many things to focus on.

There was the hand tightening a grip around the base of his cock to focus on.

“Oh, _god_ ,” Nate said with a shaky breath. “I thought—”

“You gotta stop thinking, mate,” Jake said, thumbing the underside of his erection and spreading the thin stream of precum. “That’s the whole point, ain’t it?”

“Point? Jesus, no. I—”

Jules grabbed Nate’s chin, yanking him back to face the headboard. She kissed him, stealing his breath and words.

“No. Cursing,” she said, trying her hardest not to smile, and it reminded him, again, that this was all just a weird act that they were putting on. That this was supposed to be fun. That it was as real as a simulation and his stomach dropped out. He was never good at this. He was never good enough for this. Nate almost raised his hand to tap her thigh. He wanted to. He broke the hold on his wrists, touching Jules’ thighs. She waited, brushing her lips against his as Jake tightened his hold, a confusing disconnect between what they were doing and what he was thinking and it made him reel. When he didn’t tap out, she draped her legs on either side of his face. “Good boy. If you want to use your mouth, get to work.”

Jules’ lips were just above his nose, waiting for confirmation. Another twist in his stomach, this one coiled up with want. He wanted. God, he wanted to be good for them.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered and wasn’t sure if they could hear him, but she lowered herself close enough. Almost close enough. Nate stretched up, digging his tongue between the furrows of her lips, and sucked her clit down into his mouth.

Her moans vibrated down on him same as her thighs squeezed in and he was trapped in the ocean-rolling sounds of his blood rushing. He dug his tongue in, lapping her up.

“P-Pentecost,” Jules said, grinding her hips down on his face. “Don’t…don’t let him cum.”

Nate couldn’t even see Jake below, but he could feel him squeeze his balls and stroke him until he was leaking steadily. Nate dug his fingers into Jules’ legs until she grabbed them and pried his fingers loose, not impeding him from tapping if he wanted, but unable to get a firm grasp to keep himself grounded. He had to float, to sink, to let it happen.

Please.

Jules let go of one of Nate’s hands and reached between her to help finger herself while Nate focused on her clit. Her legs were shaking harder and he could tell that she was getting close. He sucked and swirled, ignoring the tired pain in his jaw and neck as he stayed up close to reach her. Her release would help him ignore Jake’s goddamn perfect hands teasing him. Let it happen. His mind started to fuzz again and he could feel the shaky bridge starting to thread together in his mind. There was nowhere to move, to pretend to run from it.

_Just let go._

_Wait. Wait, no._

_Just let go, mate._

_Jake, wait._

_We’re both here for you. We’ve got you._

_Jake. God, please. I c—_

Something cold touched his entrance, followed by a well-lubed finger and Nate moaned high-pitched and throaty into Jules right as she ground down on his chin, fluttering fast against his mouth. Jules keened, her muscles taught as she tipped over the edge, dividing Nate’s attention. He jerked hard. So _goddamn_ close, except for Jake’s hand clinching him at the base. Another finger worked him open, scissoring back and forth.

_Don’t curse. She won’t let you finish if you do._

_Ohh_ fuck _, I can’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t._

_You can. You’re amazing, love. You can._

Jules’ hips stuttered and stalled, pulling away just as fast as they had come down on him. She sat heavily on the pillows, rolling back to the headboard and grabbing the top where Nate had been holding it earlier. “Very good,” she said at last, pushing the words out with some difficulty. “Very good. Think he’s earned himself an orgasm?”

Nate tucked his chin down to his chest to stare at whatever fucking torture Jake was applying, his eyes blown out and face shiny. Jake was bent over, his mouth dangerously close to Nate’s weeping cock without touching. He grinned enough to show his teeth, slowly looking up at Jules.

“Keep his head back, love,” Jake said, already getting the reprimand from Nate across the link even before Jules came out of the delicate haze post-orgasm. “Officer Reyes. Hold his head.”

Jules crouched, her knees on Nate’s shoulders, and grabbed him under his jaw, tilting his head to face her. She stroked his neck with feather-light touches. He put his hands flat against her thighs and lifted again when she crouched down to kiss him.

“You’re a fucking mess,” she whispered.

“Lang—”

She kissed him quiet, licking his chin and sucking up his lip. He only moaned when he felt empty, whimpering for more, please, please just a little bit more. Broad hands held his hips, Jules’ steady strong fingers squeezing on his neck to check his pulse as _ohholyfuckshitGoddamnitfuck!_

Jake hooked one of Nate’s legs onto his shoulder, stretching him out as he slid in and slammed his hips flush against Nate’s bruised ass. Words, thoughts, and breath were all pushed out of him in a single thrust, leaving him agape against Jules’ mouth.

“Breathe,” Jules said against his cheek.

 _Breathe_ , Jake thought.

 _I can’t_ , Nate answered even as he gasped.

Jake’s hips rolled away in a perfect arc, returning like the crest and fall of waves. He crashed into Nate. He pushed deeply, splitting him open. Jules cradled Nate’s head in her lap with those perfect fingers hooked tight into his jaw. He squeezed his eyes tight, leaking happenstance tears. He clenched his jaw. He just. Held on.

 _Let go,_ Jake thought with every thrust. _Let go._

And then the grip around his base was gone. That last tether strung tight snapped. There was nothing. Nate squeezed so tightly down on Jake as he came hard, shooting ribbons of cum across his stomach and chest, a splash on his chin. He screamed against Jules’ hand, his mind blinking out. There was nothing. There were hands anchoring him and an explosion of warmth and he just fucking wept.

Jake and Jules crowded around, holding Nate in on either side. They helped him lift his numb arms, crossing them gently across his chest and rubbing feeling back into them. Jules ghosted soft lips over his temple while Jake kissed his chest through the heavy sobs. He curled into himself between them, going dizzy from both forms of relief.

“You did so good,” Jules promised softly. “You’re always so good.”

“There we go,” Jake said. “See? We love you, ya pretty bastard. It’s alright.”

Nate shuddered for a few minutes, expunged himself, and went quiet between them. He might be exhausted and bruised tomorrow, but it was worth it. He hoped it was worth it. The bubble of anxiety didn’t have time to rise to the surface, because he had two people pressed up to him who wouldn’t allow it. And, god love him, Jake was already muttering ways to egg Nate into running sprint drills tomorrow with the cadets, just to piss him off. Jules shoved Jake’s arm playfully, only settling down when Nate tucked his chin down against her and breathed softly, almost drifting off.

Jake hugged up behind Nate, spooning him. They found each other’s hands to entwine them. Jules had already claimed Jake’s other hand and tucked her knees around the curve of Nate’s form like a puzzle piece, to where it didn’t even matter if it was hot and sweaty and a little gross, they just fit. It was perfect. They held hands up tight against her chest, completing the circle.

“Gonna waste all the hot water in the Shatterdome tomorrow,” Jake said with a laugh.

“After suicide sprints,” Nate mumbled, half awake.

“I ain’t running like this tomorrow.”

“First thing in the morning.”

“ _You_ ain’t running tomorrow,” Jake corrected. “I was only playing before. You’re gonna sleep.”

“Oh, I think he can do it. You can do it. Come on, boys. Make it a bet already so I can collect,” Jules said.

“How much, Jules?” Nate asked playfully, perking up only to have his head pet down until he was resting again. Which was good. He barely had the energy to open his eyes.

“How much you got?”

“Ain’t none of you know a damn thing about beauty rest?” Jake asked, humming as Jules rubbed circles into the side of his hand. “Fine. Fine. You’re plenty beautiful. We’re the prettiest partners on the planet. But I ain’t doing suicide sprints.”

Nate smiled at the sound of them, the pressure on either side. He felt safe. And they so rarely got to feel safe. Even now. But he was and as brief as this all was, as fleeting as it was, he closed his eyes and slept.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A good cry is good for the soul!
> 
> Thanks for reading.


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